Nearly three years ago I was sat down with my family, telling them the life altering news. My mom and dad were staring at me as if they knew something was wrong, but they told me later on they never expected me to say what I did.
"I'm pregnant."
Most of the time it's a means of celebration, but with my twentieth birthday right around the corner, this was not the time for balloons and streamers. Mom burst into tears and dad was so angry he stormed out of the dining room not even giving me a chance to explain. I sat at the dining table feeling disappointment wash through my veins. It felt good to get out, but it felt worse to confront the reality of the situation after not wanting to at all.
It was question after question from mom followed by weeks of the silent treatment from my dad. I guess after all he never wanted this for me; he wanted me to go to college, move out of Faycoast and follow my dreams. Whatever that means.
But a week after Valentine's Day-during the snowiest February we've had in years-I gave birth to a baby girl. Even in the midst of the turmoil, life had seemed to slow down the moment she was put into my arms. Just Cecilia and my mom beside me as we stared in awe at the blue eyed baby. And it was in that moment that whatever dreams I had as a little girl didn't matter because the dreams of my little girl did. She was, after all, the only piece of Austin I had left and even with all the pain still burning strong inside of me from when he left, I promise I'd give her everything and more. I promised to never let her feel the rejection I felt.
It's odd how something so perfect can come out of something not so perfect-a relationship that was far from 'goals'. Dad never wanted me to marry him anyway, he said to me once, and mom didn't bother disagreeing.
But when I look at how far we've come in the last two and a half, almost three, years, I can't help but feel proud of myself. Sure, maybe my circumstances were better than others'. Some single parents have the weight of the world on their shoulders, but I happened to have a supportive family and two best friends that help alleviate mine. At the end of the day, though, I only have Eliana and she truly only has me.
The tiny giggles that echo down the narrow hallway of our apartment lead me closer to finishing this round of hide-and-seek. I creep down slowly, feet moving slowly on the cold hardwood floor, cautious not to make too much noise. If my mind serves me well, I know Eliana's probably hiding behind my bedroom door. Again. She tends to hide in the places I've already hid, except when she finds the occasional new spot like behind the curtains or under the kitchen table.
"Where on earth could Eliana be?" I cooed loud enough for her to hear. Giggles erupt from her again and I can't help but stop and laugh myself. Yeah, she's definitely behind my door.
When I get closer, I look at the open door, noticing the movement behind the hinge. Her baby blue dress peaks out a bit from the duller white and brown colors surrounding her.
"Could she be in...here!?" I open the bathroom door, knowing very well it would make her laugh again. "Oh no, I seemed to have lost her! Maybe she's in the closet."
I open the closet to nothing but the usual things cluttered inside. "Oh my. Better check the bedroom, huh? Eliana?" I sang her name a few times, a smile tugging at my lips as I got closer to my room. "Eliana?"
In my relatively organized bedroom, the curtains are drawn open giving a large view of the surrounding buildings and the gray skies that have been among us for two days now.
"There you are!" I kneel down in front of the two and a half year old and grab her gently, pulling her into my arms. She giggles endlessly, high pitched squeals that will leave my ears ringing and my cheeks burning bright. Eliana puts her tiny hands to my face and presses a kiss to my nose.
"You found me, mama!"
"I'll always find you, cupcake. Now should I go hide or do you think we should make a snack? Are you hungry?" I questioned softly.
Eliana took a moment to think, her face softening. Bright red cheeks dimpled lightly by her smile. "Gold fish?"
"How about a some blueberries?" I offered.
Her blue eyes lit up. It was her favorite snack and while she made a mess, it made her happy as can be. "Boo-berries!"
Eliana nodded quickly, tiny feet clapping on the hardwood floor as she ran down the hallway to the kitchen. I manage to catch up rather quickly considering her tiny legs give her a disadvantage.
As I unpack the fresh blueberries, Eliana sits in her high chair waiting patiently. Wide eyed and staring in amazement as I bring her a bowl, she claps her hands before digging in.
"Yummy, yummy," I giggled.
"Nummy, nummy," Eliana agreed.
"Mama loves you so much, princess. There isn't a thing I wouldn't do for you, remember that, okay?"
I brushed back her hair and give her a kiss on the forehead. She seemed too occupied by her blueberries to really respond to me, but her blue eyes flicked up to mine and a tiny smile illuminated her face as she shoved blueberries into her mouth. It's a mess I'm willing to clean.
* * *
I've had my fair share of memories at Faycoast Fair. It was the go-to for everyone growing up, a time where the town forgot all about it's costal schmooze and supported about the local businesses. It's even where I got my first kiss in sixth grade to a boy that moved away long before we even graduated from high school.
Living in a coastal down can seem like a dream to any outsider. The constant access to the beach is a plus side. A downside is just how small it is. Yearly we get a summer storm that wipes a few plots of land clean, causing more people to move out than in since it can be far too expensive to keep it up. But other than the occasional storm, it's a nicely put together town. Buildings coated in fresh paint, flowers in pots lining sidewalks, grass that is well kept thanks to the town's gardeners.
Despite what an average person may think, the Faycoast Fair isn't compiled with rigged arcade games and silly carnival rides. It's mostly a bunch of local businesses with stands selling fresh goodies, giving out prizes for raffles and a bunch of other things. There are the occasional games to get the kids in. Even the high school's sports team participates and has its own fundraising tent. Their sign written in messy handwriting saying: Cash wash -- $5 Support your local high school!
But best of all is the press this damn thing gets. Between Betty Freeman's apple pies to mom's beautiful hydrangeas, the town is bustling with tourists willing to try it all.
Dad takes Eliana again this year, deciding that having to deal with her and the swarm of customers would be too much for me to handle. Mom thought bringing her play pen would be fun and I didn't disagree, but dad insisted on wanting to spend more time with his granddaughter considering he's always traveling for work. As much as I love spending time with Eliana, sometimes I need a break too.
Today's another sunny day and even the sun dress I'm wearing-as revealing as it is-isn't doing much help with keeping me cool. My hairs tied back into a high ponytail, pieces falling around my face like usual, which makes me wish I had a bobby pin or something.
The fair tent we're under is white and rather large with tables lines up on three sides, filled with small plants and easy sets that make flower shopping a lot easier. Each set is wrapped perfectly thanks to mom and Lucile. Our stand seems to die down a bit by noon and I'm contemplating just laying on the grass and falling asleep, but mom makes me count the money for her so she can go get some more change.
"What do you think attracts people to flowers?" Peter pondered aloud.
I glanced over at him giving him an odd look before returning back to the money I was counting. A minute later, after I was finished, I turned back to him and replied. "People like flowers because they're easy gifts."
"False," mom butts in, resting her hip against one of the tables. Her hair was up in a tight bun today, glasses perch on her nose like always. "People enjoy flowers because of the intoxicating smells, vibrant colors and the meanings attached to them."
"How do flowers even have meanings?" Cecilia, with her long black hair braided down her back, looked skeptical. Her milky skin was smooth and barley touched by the sun. "I feel like it's all a ploy to get money-"
"Oh god," I grumbled, "here we go-"
"You can have that opinion, Cecilia," my mother respectfully replied, "and I would be lying to you if I said I didn't somewhat agree. The culture around branding flowers meaning is simply commercial nowadays."
Cecilia smiled with pride, "that's why none of my girlfriends will ever get me flowers."
"Rude," Peter interjected.
I laughed at them as they go on bickering about Valentine's Day and gifts, but I managed successfully to stay out of it. I didn't really have a valid opinion on the matter anyway considering I don't do romantic holidays.
My thoughts about it all are interrupted when a shaky voice fills my ears. I glance up from the flowers I was looking at to see Mrs. Winters standing there dressed in waist high blue jeans and a bright pink shirt. You have to squint to see past it.
"Lovely day, isn't it? How are sales?"
"They're great," I replied, "we can't complain."
"I bet you're busy." Her eyes stayed on me now. "Shouldn't there be a line wrapped around this place to buy flowers for you?"
Cecilia and Peter were snickering like little kids behind me. It took a lot of strength to not roll my eyes at them or burst into flames, really. Peter was beside me now, nudging my arm and chuckling.
"We should make a sign," he suggested.
"I'd happily supply the markers from my scrapbooking-"
"That's not necessary. We're not running a kissing booth over here," I now rolled my eyes but it wasn't to cause any harm, simply to show my annoyance over the fact. Don't they realize how little motivation I have to find a man? "I should go see if Lucile needs help."
Some annoyance swells in my chest as I scrunch my nose a bit and turn around with my head down. I don't like being cornered and pressured to answer stuff about my dating life. I've never been the girl to flaunt relationships. Maybe because I've never had the kind of relationship I wanted to show the world. These thoughts always make me bitter, so I focus on helping Lucile wrap up more flowers.
Now that business is really starting to die down a few hours later, Cecilia and Peter are sitting onthe chairs under the shaded tent while I lean against one of the tables and wait for more people. I glance down at my watch. 2:24pm. A long sigh passes my lips, eyes flickering up to see Peter resting his head back with his mouth open. He could be napping for all I know; I can't see his eyes under his dark sunglasses. Cecilia on the other hand is scrolling through her phone mindless tapping the screen-probably on Instagram.
"Aren't those pretty?"
My head snaps around to see a few people walking together. The girl with the shoulder length platinum blonde hair comes up to the flowers, her smile wide as she looks at them all. Her green eyes flick up to mine, "hi."
"Hello." I smiled back.
Coming up beside her a guy with short dirty blonde hair wraps his arm around her and gets close, looking down at the flowers she's peeking at. "Aren't these pretty, Gregory?"
"I suppose," he chuckled.
The girl ignores his indifference and walked around to check out more of the flowers. Now, a guy with striking resemblance to her came up to where she once stood, sunglasses set on top of his head, pushing back his chocolate colored curls. The green in his eyes seemed much more dramatic than his likely sister and he was much taller, even a few inches taller than me.
"Hi." A perfect grin formed on his face, my heart skipped a beat and my smile followed, along with my blushing cheeks. "I've seen just about every possible tent but I think yours is the first flower tent I've seen all day."
My throat aches a bit as I fumble with a response in my head. "I guess it's hard to compete with the best," I giggled.
The laughter that rumbled out of his chest was just as perfect as his sculpted cheekbones and as soft as the dimples that set into his cheeks. His head tilts back a bit before he looks back down at me, green eyes seemingly on fire as he speaks with the kind of voice you want to taste.
"I'm sure you're popular in town," he spoke smoothly; voice slow and deep and borderline hypnotizing. His tongue pokes out as he licks his lips momentarily, eyes drifting to the right to look at his sister who's now buying flowers from Cecilia. "My sister's a flower nut-doesn't buy plants unless they're from a good place."
I glanced back and looked at her selection before looking back at the green-eyed man in front of me. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets, white t-shirt a little snug on his body but exposing the black ink on his arms-mostly just the one. And when he turned a little the sun hit his chest just enough for me to see the shadows of more ink beneath the fabric.
"Are you from around here?" I asked.
"Nope," he shook his head, "we live about two hours out in Williamstown. My friend Liam actually just moved here-he's on the police force now. Detective Payne."
"Really?" I inquired. "Well just about everyone knows everyone in this town. Maybe I'll meet him soon. Tell him to stop by the shop."
"Do you work there?" he asked, almost rushed as if he knew the obvious answer.
"My mom owns it," I replied. "It's been in the family for generations."
There's an odd silence behind me and it's almost like I can feel Peter and Cecilia's eyes burning holes into my back. And I don't blame them. The guy in front of me is enough to send everyone's heads turning.
"So," he began, "if I were to buy flowers for my mum, which would I get?"
I laughed, seeing the quirking smile forming on his lips now too. I glanced over at the selection in front of us and he seemed to follow my lead. "Tulips, I think. But it's truly the thought that counts. Mums aren't picking.
"You haven't met my mother then." He paused for a moment. "What's your favorite flower?"
I freeze because he's looking at me intently and seriously, but I see the flicker of amusement behind his eyes and it makes my cheeks and hands and my entire freaking body flush.
I swallow back my nervousness and reply as coolly as I can. "I like them all, really," I said, "but I think lilies are so simple and beautiful."
He nods his head, listening carefully as I speak, watching my entire face, not just my eyes as if he's trying to analyze me. And just as his lips open to reply his sister cuts him off. "Come on, Harry, we've got to go before we're late to our dinner reservations!"
He rolls his eyes at her, huffing a bit before looking back to me sympathetically. "It was nice to meet you..."
"Diana," I finished.
"Nice to meet you, Diana. I'll admit I've never been in a flower shop before," he laughed nervously, "but maybe I can stop by yours some time... I better get going before my sister rips out my hair."
I giggled. "Okay. Bye, Harry."
The moment he disappears into the crowd of people I catch my breath. I don't bother to turn to my friends and discuss logistics, so I just stand here letting it all settle. But as quickly as he came into my life, he was far-gone now and the rush of preceding customers inadvertently filtered him out of my head.
***
Hello! This chapter took me like five years to write and lots of editing because I wasn't sure how I wanted them to meet and I'm still not the biggest fan of the scenario, but I can promise when they meet again it'll be a lot cuter and funnier.
I hope you're enjoying it so far!
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